


Waiting to Return

by GiantRoboticPlatypusButt (AngstAndAlliums)



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Gen, Mild Language, Original Character(s), Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22379479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngstAndAlliums/pseuds/GiantRoboticPlatypusButt
Summary: After a terrifying run-in with a haywire carnival ride, Cavendish ends up in a featureless black void with a million questions and only a mysterious robed figure to answer them.
Relationships: Balthazar Cavendish & Vinnie Dakota
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	Waiting to Return

**Author's Note:**

> There's technically a major character death but, it's Cavendish. You know how it works. 
> 
> Please don't take whatever happens in this fic as my personal beliefs about what happens in the afterlife. I just wanted to make a silly fic where Cavendish and Dakota annoy a reaper without even trying but with a little bit of angst mixed in. 
> 
> Speaking of Dakota, he's not really in this fic as we know him, but he and his relationship with Cavendish are mentioned a lot, hence why they're tagged.

“AHHH!!!” 

Cavendish squeezed his eyes shut and cowered fearfully. 

There was no way he was getting out of this. He was going to be squashed flat by the top of a haywire sky swing of all things. No escape. 

Would it hurt? Would he know? It wouldn’t be long until he found out. 

He dared not open his eyes. Seeing it hurling toward him was enough. Watching every last second of his life just wasn’t worth the fear it would cause. 

… 

His thoughts were certainly going on for a while considering the velocity of the broken carnival ride. 

Did it miss him? It didn’t sound like it landed somewhere else. Actually… now that he thought about it… there wasn’t any sound whatsoever. Did the impact cause him to go deaf? Wouldn’t _that_ have hurt? His ears being blown out? If that were the case, at the very least that meant he was still ali-

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a turning page. 

Not deaf then. But… what was that? It _had_ to be safe to open his eyes now, right? Well, there was only one way to find out. 

Slowly, he opened his eyes to… nothing? 

Not _nothing_ but, close to nothing. The best description he had was a void of some sort. An infinite blackness as far as he could see. He swiveled his head to find something, anything… and actually found something. 

A figure in the blackness, sitting on seemingly nothing and surrounded by softly glowing lights with no discernable source. They were wearing a dark robe that obscured their face, and most features for that matter. In their gloved hands appeared to be a novel of some sort, which seemed to be keeping their full attention. 

…Should he… say something? What was this? Where was he? What was that robed figure doing? So many questions and… well… he had no idea what time was like here. Was he outside of time? This wasn’t like the timestream _or_ any point in time that he knew of. 

One thing was for sure though, sitting around and thinking to himself wasn’t going to get him any answers. Still… whoever that robed figure is… they’re a tad _unnerving_ to look at. 

…But that didn’t matter. Better to risk talking to them rather than sit and do absolutely nothing. 

Cavendish stood up, though, whatever he was standing on wasn’t apparent. What was below his feet was just about as black as everywhere else. Even where the soft orbs of light were shining around the figure there didn’t seem to be any discernible floors or walls. 

His steps were cautious, like walking down a set of stairs in the dark, but every footfall is the unexpected one at the bottom that reaches the floor much too quickly. With no way of telling where exactly his foot was going to land, the short walk was quite unnerving. Not to mention the strange figure he was getting closer to. 

Finally, he was a respectable distance away, but close enough that a decent conversation could be had. 

“…”

But what was he going to say? So many questions, but which one to choose? Would too many annoy them? Was this person… if they _are_ a person… dangerous? He couldn’t just up and ask anything right now, could he? 

He remained silent, awkwardly still as he simply observed this odd figure continue to read a book. 

They turned another page. The silver tassel of the bookmark between their fingers swayed in response. 

“Er… excuse me…?” What honorific would he use? He couldn’t even _see their face_ so how would he know? Whatever. Best to just skip it. “What… exactly are you doing?” 

Was that too rude? He didn’t want to upset them if-

“Waiting.” 

…Okay so they’re not mad. That’s… good. Their voice has an odd hollow, whispery tone that makes it hard to discern a gender if they have one. If they have a face Cavendish still can’t see it, so guessing if they're human, android, alien, or whatever else isn’t an option. None of that particularly mattered to him at the moment though, because their answer just raised more questions. 

“What are you waiting for?”

“For you to be returned.” 

“…Returned?” 

“To the living world.” 

“The liv- I’m _dead?!_ ” 

“For a moment.” 

Cavendish was breathing harshly, his mind rushing faster than he could keep up. 

At the very least, now he knows that his death wasn’t painful. 

“I’m… very confused.”

“I am sure you are.” 

The figure continued to focus on the book, seemingly ignoring Cavendish’s presence. 

There were still so many questions he wanted to ask, but what? Was he interrupting something? What was going on?!

“Where am I?” he finally asked. 

The robed figure sighed and bookmarked the page, closing the novel with a soft thud. After resting it in their lap, they brought a hand to their concealed face in an action that Cavendish could only interpret as pinching the bridge of their nose. 

“Think of it like… a waiting room to the afterlife,” they said, voice now sounding much less hollow and mysterious and more like an average human who had to go into work on their day off. 

“Purgatory?” 

“Ehh…” With a flattened hand, they rotated their wrist in a ‘so so’ gesture. 

Well, _that’s_ much less formal. But now he could see a set of glowing purple eyes inside their hood, but nothing else. He wasn’t sure if he was more or less comfortable now.

“This… ‘waiting room’ doesn’t seem to have any entrances or exits,” Cavendish slowly pointed out.

“It doesn’t need to. People just pop in when they die. Once they’re judged, I send them off to where they need to go.” 

“Heaven or Hell?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that, but kind of.” 

“More complicated?” 

The figure sat back in whatever invisible object they were sitting on. 

“It’s not just ‘good people go up, bad people go down.’ Partly because those directions are relative and don’t really exist in this plane of reality, but mostly because people are more complex than being wholly good or bad.”

“I already knew that.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“Okay, well, I didn’t know about the whole Heaven and Hell thing, but I know people aren’t usually one hundred percent good or evil.”

“Ah.” 

“What about the whole ‘judged’ thing?”

“When anyone gets here, I look back on their lives and decide where they go based on what they did.”

“Where _do_ they go?” 

“It’s _way_ too much to get into.”

“…Alright.”

A silent pause overtook the… general area. Cavendish wasn’t sure what else to ask at the moment. The whole situation seemed very awkward and it was somewhat clouding his thoughts. 

The robed figure thrummed their fingers against the cover of the book, looking off in random directions. 

“Am I… keeping you from something? If I am, I’m terribly sorry. I’m not quite sure what I’m supposed to be doing…”

With a swish of their hand, the thought was waved away. “Don’t worry about it. If anything, it’s more Dakota’s fault than yours that you’re still here.” 

“What? Dakota? You know about him?” 

They threw their hooded head back. “ _Ugh_. Yeah.”

“Do you not like him?” 

“I wouldn’t say _that_.” The robed figure sat up straight, turning to face Cavendish. “I mean, I get where he’s coming from and all, but it definitely makes my job a lot more tedious.” 

“‘Where he’s coming from’? And what do you mean by ‘tedious’?” 

“Where do I even start!” The figure stood up and set their book on what could only be an invisible chair, appearing to get ready for a rant. 

“Well, for one, he keeps freaking _saving_ you, which again, I get. He’s your pal and all. But still! I wish I could fault you for dying, but most of the time it’s some sort of freak accident that gets you. Then there’s the fact that whenever one of his stupid copies die I have to give him the _whole afterlife spiel again_ and half the time he doesn’t even _listen to me_ which is a real pain in the ass-”

So much information to process and they just keep going-

“-And every single time a copy dies I have to sort it _again, individually, every single time_ because _technically_ it’s a different person with a different soul with different life actions and I can’t just say to all of them _‘yeah you go to section 148 D have a nice time’_ because _no_ this _one_ Dakota had to slap a guy _one time_ and now he has to go somewhere else, meaning the _one_ thing that could’ve made this situation simpler doesn’t happen and it’s just _really tiring_ having to deal with him _over and over and OVER again_. Sometimes I just want at least one of him to be a sorter so he can understand just how _infuriating it is to deal with him_ , but given his track record with following rules in general, that would _never_ fly with management.” 

They suddenly stopped, making the sound of clearing their throat. “Sorry. I don’t usually rant but I never really get the chance to. I _am_ supposed to be working right now, but there’s not really anyone here to sort.” 

Mouth agape, Cavendish tried to get ahold of his thoughts. “No, no. it’s alright. It just that you said a lot of things and many of them are too much for me to process all at once.” He took a deep breath. “So, Dakota has been… saving me?” 

“Uh-huh.”

“Presumably by going back in time to undo my deaths.”

“Yes.”

“Because I apparently die frequently.”

“Yes again.”

“Okay… but why are there copies of him?”

“Because when he goes back, he makes a copy of himself. Another copy, another soul brought into the realm of the living. Not a conventional way to create life, but one nonetheless.” 

“And those copies are… dying?”

“Old age. It’s twenty seventy, most of them came into being around twenty fifteen.”

Cavendish tilted his head. “Twenty sev- Oh. Right. Dakota just _had_ to check out this stupid carnival he heard about…” He cleared his throat. “I forgot I was in this time period after being distracted by, well, dying.” 

“I get it. I will say, crushed by a carnival ride is a pretty cool way to go out.” 

“But not the one I’d prefer, thank you very much,” Cavendish said while brushing off his suit. After a short moment, he cleared his throat. “Erm… you seem like you know a lot. Where… did all those copies of Dakota… go, exactly? They couldn’t possibly have just roamed around Danville without being noticed.”

“Dakota sends them to a secluded island not too far from Danville. Ugh, they were _so close_ to not being my problem but _noOo_ they’re still technically Dakota and were still technically born in _my_ district so they’re _my_ responsibility even if they weren’t _created_ there.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s fine. It’s just, time moves fast for me so it’s like I see the same two guys all the time. It’s not the worst thing to deal with in the universe.”

Awkwardly, Cavendish looked around. Not that there was anything to look at. “Sooo… I’m just standing here waiting to be saved”

“Yeah.”

“I am still _very_ confused.”

“It’s not gonna matter soon. You’ll forget about all of this once you return to the living.”

Cavendish let out a loud whine. “Why did you tell me all of this if I’m just going to forget it all?!” 

“Because I can’t sort you, there’s nothing else to do, and you didn’t let me keep reading this time.”

 _‘This time_. _’_ That only made his anxiety worse! He crossed his arms and whimpered. “...Oh. So… how long until I go back…?”

“That, I don’t know. It usually doesn’t take so long, but I’m guessing you were both a distance from the time car when you died.”

“The middle of a carnival… it could take him twenty minutes to get back…”

“Even longer if he stops for snacks.”

He looked around again, as if something in this void would solve everything. “I don’t want to forget all this! I just learned my partner has been saving my life and I’ll never get to know about it?!”

“You find out eventually.”

“I do?” he gasped, taking a step closer. 

“Yeah. Some of the Dakotas mentioned you visiting the island.”

“Do you know when?”

“Not really. You guys are time travelers and could have visited at any time, any _number of times_ , at any age. Though if I had to guess, you’ll learn sometime in twenty fifteen. It seemed like that year was busy for you two.” They put their concealed forehead in their palm and shook their head. “I saw you so many times that year…”

Saying nothing, Cavendish looked around once again, since it was literally the only thing he could do. It sure felt like a fair amount of time had passed since he got here.

“I think it’s fair to assume Dakota stopped for a snack.”

“Sounds likely.”

He let out a sigh. “Even while his partner is dead and in some sort of void dimension he still only thinks of his stomach.”

“He doesn’t know about this place, and you won’t know about it soon enough too.” The robed figure turned around. “Anyway, not to be rude… but I’d kinda like to get back to my book now.” They grabbed said book and sat down again, opening to the bookmarked page. 

“What are you reading?” Cavendish said with genuine curiosity.

“‘The Violet Bottle’.”

“Oh, that’s a classic.”

“For you maybe, but it just came out this year for me.”

“Well, enjoy your book. I’ll just… keep standing here… I suppose…”

With a nod, the cloaked figure was once again absorbed into their book.

Cavendish was left to stand around in silence, twiddling his thumbs, waiting for Dakota to save him. There was a massive pit in his stomach at the thought, though. As soon as he leaves this place, he won’t remember the conversation he just had. That Dakota saved him. That Dakota _has been saving_ him. That Dakota would risk his job to keep his partner alive. That Dakota has been keeping this all a secret, presumably for years. 

That Dakota… did all of this despite how much belittling he had to endure from the one he decided so selflessly to save. 

As soon as he’s alive again… he’s going to return to scolding him for getting a snack. Return to groaning every time he does something goofy. Return to… believing that his partner, who had been keeping him alive for years, was selfish.

There wasn’t a way out of it. All he could do was wish that he could remember what happened here so he could learn from it. And possibly treat his only friend the way he deserved. But… that wasn’t going to happen. 

Cavendish sighed and sat down, hugging his knees and burying his head between his legs, waiting to return. 

Soon enough, he popped out of the mysterious black space, back to the moment that in another continuity, he wasn’t alive in.

The robed figure turned to where Cavendish was once standing, and nodded at seeing he wasn’t there. Now, they could peacefully return to their book. They looked down at the pages, ready to pick up where they left off. 

“Woah, hey! Are you death?” 

They didn’t even need to look at who it was given the all too familiar voice. 

“ _Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…_ ”


End file.
